SugarRush
by Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure
Summary: Sleep isn’t Hisoka’s friend, so what’s a cranky, exhausted teenager to do? How far will he go to hide his unrest from Tsuzuki’s smothering concern and the rest of his coworker family?


**Title:** Sugar-Rush

**Summary:** Sleep isn't Hisoka's friend, so what's a cranky, exhausted teenager to do? How far will he go to hide his unrest from Tsuzuki's smothering concern and the rest of his co-worker family?

**Author:** Celebdil-Galad

**Rating:** G or K, whatever rating system you use.

**Disclaimer:** "Yami No Matsuei" is not owned in any way, shape, or form, by me. It is owned by Yoko Matsushita and the respective sharers of the copyright. I also am not getting paid to write this, it's purely for fun. Lastly, this particular story is not Shonen-ai. I may be delusional, but I don't see the series as being very heavy in the yaoi department, except for Muraki, of course. But the story is meant to be funny regardless.

Also, I would like to add that this story had some inspiration from Marie Delcore.

**:-: Sugar-Rush :-:**

Sleep had been no friend of Hisoka's for the past month, let alone the past few nights. It wasn't nightmares keeping him awake –amazingly. He just couldn't seem to get his thoughts to quiet down, that and the neighboring apartments weren't exactly quiet. Sometimes the emotions hitting him on all sides were enough to make him dizzy, sick, or both. Maybe he should let Tsuzuki spell his room with shields….

Ah well, that wouldn't help him today.

Grabbing a book from his nightstand, he made his way groggily towards the kitchen. He wasn't going to eat anything; he was too tired to expend energy chewing. However, he had no objections to some really strong coffee.

Before he had started his job as a Shinigami, he had never considered coffee. Now it was ritualistic to down a few cups in the morning while reading a chapter of his most recent choice of book.

This morning, however, he couldn't even focus on the words. Just the thought of it made the back of his skull hurt.

Hurriedly preparing a pot of strong, hot coffee he downed a couple of cups within twenty minutes.

The effect was minimal. If anything, he felt worse.

Tsuzuki was going to be upset. He knew his partner wouldn't leave him alone.

He also knew that he wouldn't be able to stand Tsuzuki's smothering anxiety and suffocating antics –not today. He was already bristling at the thought of the purple-eyes narrowing, suspicious with concern.

If he wanted to avoid a strangling hug, or a pouting 90-plus-year-old he needed a metabolism booster, and he needed it _now_.

He was not the type that typically thought up ways to get helplessly and hopelessly hyper. As a matter of fact, he despised being hyper like he despised the gooey filling of Tsuzuki's toxic apple-pies. (They were "special" alright).

Irritated that something that seemed to come so naturally to Tsuzuki (and just about everyone else), was eluding him, Hisoka sulked in a kitchen chair. All he wanted was to stay home, sit here, and stare at the floor. He could almost picture little mechanics in his brain triggering alarms that screamed "all sectors down!".

If Tsuzuki were in this situation he would probably have put down at least three pieces of cake with a doughnut or two, and chased that down with some pop –probably something heavy in the caffeine and sugar department.

The thought of icing or any sort of pastry was positively nauseating, but maybe pop wouldn't be _so_ bad. Truth be told, he had never really tried it, just observed the usually undesirable effects.

Being locked in a basement deprived you of more than light and friends.

Drudging in the direction of his room, he collected some clothes from his dresser and dragged himself to the bathroom and the awaiting shower. Maybe that combined with the coffee would be enough…

Minutes later, a clean, but still exhausted Hisoka pulled on his clothes only to realize that he was still lacking in lucidity.

Cramming his wallet into his back pocket, he grabbed his jean jacket, keys, and a few papers, and locked up before teleporting to Miefu.

Tsuzuki's face wasn't to be seen, -no surprises there. It was only 6:59 AM.

Watari came rushing around the corner, papers fluttering in the wake of his hair and lab coat. His face sported mischievous glee.

Seconds later Tatsumi came rushing by. Hisoka didn't have to hear "WATARI, GIVE ME BACK MY ACCOUNTING BOOKS, _NOW_!" to know the blonde had done something.

The procession was followed by zero-zero-three.

It was 7:01. Thus far he had only been working one minute and already the day promised to be interesting for someone without the reflexes required for _survival_ around this place.

Half-awake and feeling much like a zombie, Hisoka had barely possessed the reflexes to get out of dodge before being run over.

He sluggishly dragged himself to the break room and the whirring vending machines.

Pulling out the required yen, he fed it to the machine and stared at the options. Just how much sugar did he really want?

The ministry was big on souvenirs. Hisoka had found that out almost immediately. It had not taken long for the ministry to discover this drink called "Mountain Dew" in English –especially Tsuzuki and the chief. (Saya and Yuma swore it would make them fat).

Hisoka had never tried it himself. If Tsuzuki loved it, he was bound to loathe it.

Oh well, after a few hasty gulps it would be gone and he could chase it down with some water or something to get rid of the after-taste, if it had one.

Punching the correlating buttons, he soon had his pop. He felt frosty in his hand and he grimaced at the thought of having to chug something that cold almost before he did anything else that morning. Before the rational side of his brain had time for further protest he popped the tab, listening idly to the hissing fizz. Cautiously, he sipped around the edges.

Yuck. It was sweet, but with an acidic taste that made it bearable. Looking at the clock, he sighed rapidly chugged the rest down. Licking his lips, he tossed the can into the recycling bin by the door on his way out.

Recycling had followed them to the grave…that must have been a nightmare for Tsuzuki to discover. His older partner wasn't overly tidy.

Entering the office space shared between himself and Tsuzuki, Hisoka noted he was already starting to feel more of a spring to his step. Odd. Even when he was in a good mood he never felt…energized.

Sliding in his chair, he started thumbing through the stack of paperwork on his desk. It was going to take until lunch to finish, and by then Tatsumi would probably have more. He almost found himself wishing that he and Tsuzuki had another mission.

At around 7:15 Tsuzuki came tip-toeing in looking like a frightened puppy –literally. His ears hung dejectedly and his inu tail was tucking up between his legs in a comical way.

"What's the matter with you?" Hisoka heard himself grumble. "Cinnabons run out or something?"

Tsuzuki sniffled. "Oh, 'Soka! Be nice! I'm starving!"

"So they did run out," Hisoka answered his own question, rather smugly.

Terazuma came by triumphantly waving a Cinnabon bag and humming to himself. Tsuzuki's emotions peaked, leaking feelings of vengeance and sadness all over the place. The younger shinigami even detected a trace of homicidal thought coming from his partner.

The boy almost face-planted into his paperwork. "Honestly, Tsuzuki! IT'S A PASTRY!"

Tsuzuki just gave him a dumfounded expression that clearly asked: and your point is?

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Just sit down and shut up."

Tsuzuki slouched into his chair and face-planted into his desk, "oooooohhhhh 'Soka, I'm just so hungry."

Silence.

"Hi-so-kaaaaaaaa!"

More silence.

"I'm starving, here!"

Hisoka turned a stapled page over to start reading through the next set of typing.

Tsuzuki fidgeted. "HI-SO-KA!"

That did the trick alright.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? PULL SOME GRAHAM CRACKERS OUT OF MY NON-EXISANT PURSE AND GIVE THEM TO YOU? YOU _BAKA_! SHUT UP! I'M NOT YOUR MOM! GOT THAT, IDIOT?" The boy was standing up, punctuating each sentence by smacking a fist on the desk. "I mean, what is your problem anyway? 'I'm hungry 'Soka!', 'feed me 'soka', 'hiiiiiiiii-sokaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!'"

The kid was on a role. He must have been holding this in for quite some time.

"Get real Tsuzuki! I mean, seriously! You're how old? Go buy a damn pack of crackers!" He then rolled his eyes. "Oh, no wait! I forgot! You're always broke! Well then stop spending money on everything-"

"But you just said to buy-"

"Clam it, Tsuzuki! I'm not finished with you!"

Tsuzuki was starting to shrink back in his chair, purple eyes wide, jaw dropped. Hisoka usually didn't utter more than two sentences at a time. This time the kid didn't seem to breathe between paragraphs…He just kept going and going…

Tsuzuki never worked, he was never on time, he blew his paycheck, he tried to blow Hisoka's paycheck, he needed to put his tie on correctly, he needed to stop drinking so much….

"And another thing!" Hisoka continued, apparently not finished. "LEAVE ME ALONE ONCE IN A WHILE! I'M NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY" This last demand was punctuated with a kick to Tsuzuki's shin.

By now the kid's tirade had attracted the attention of the chief, Tatsumi, Watari, Terazuma, Wakaba and even Zero-Zero-Three. The little owl bounced enthusiastically on Watari's mass of curls, possibly cheering Hisoka on.

The boy sat back down, having clearly exhausted himself. But he almost had a satisfied smile curling at his lips' corners.

Tsuzuki rubbed his shin, too surprised to wail dramatically at the small amount of pain. "Y-you kicked me!" he finally stammered, astonished. "Why did you do that?"

Hisoka fought down the strange grin dying to break through. "I felt like it."

Tsuzuki was nonplussed. "WHO REPLACED YOU?"

Now it was Hisoka's turn to be confused. "Excuse me?"

Afraid he might say something that would cause another bout of anger, the older shinigami shrugged. "You used to be nice."

Hisoka mused over that, blushed, and threw himself into his paperwork.

By now the rest of the office had gone back to their respective duties. However, later Tsuzuki consulted Watari on the entire thing and was amazed at the scientist's answer. "It's a good thing Bon doesn't like sweet stuff."

Tsuzuki's eyebrows said hello to his hair line. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, all it took was one Mountain Dew to tip him over the edge-"

"He wouldn't drink that."

"Oh yes he would. I caught it on camera."

Tsuzuki frowned. He might have known Watari had cameras hidden all over the place. He made a mental note to avoid doing anything incriminating for a while. "Oh? Mind if I see the tape?"

Watari grinned, pulling it out of his lab coat pocket. "I've got popcorn in my lab."

Tsuzuki smiled devilishly. "Awesome." And he knew he wouldn't have to worry about Hisoka for a while.

Sugar-rush over, the kid was passed out cold on his desk, with Tsuzuki's coat cast over him for a blanket. He wouldn't be waking up for a while.

**THE END**

**Please review! I would love to hear what you have to say about this! I know, everyone was a little OOC, but I just had to write this. I blame Marie Delcore. It's all her fault. Entirely.**


End file.
